Laws of Betrothal
by LizzyFox
Summary: After the war, Jaron thinks he has finally settled down to peace and quiet. But then, something arises that may threaten the whole of Carthya. For every review, I'll write an additional chapter.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 2

"_May the devil's be damned," _Jaron thought, gazing out from the balcony, across the countryside. _His _country. It had only been a month since the war ended, but the people of Carthya were already quickly rebuilding. The war had taken a particular toll on Drylliad, due to the sheer amount of people seeking refuge there. Stocks were low, very low, and it was slow going to regain what had been lost.

He smiled to himself. Finally, it was over. The war was over, the people were happy, he was engaged to the love of his life, peace treaties were under way…

He sighed. Those would be a whole nother war of their own. He pondered on the possibility of just having Harlowe do it. He shook his head. If he was going to be king, he'd have to suffer through greater trials than simple peace talks for his country. Even if there was nothing simple about them.

He looked out on the countryside once more, and noted, quite pleasantly, the company of a young couple walking by, the woman very much pregnant. The ultimate sign of prosperity – children. He smiled at the thought.

"Prince Jaron! Prince Jaron!" Jaron groaned. He briefly debated the merits of simply climbing out the balcony and scaling the wall, but before his decision could be made, the owner of the voice entered the room.

"Tobias, we've been over this."

"What?"

Jaron rolled his eyes and turned around to face his advisor. "It's just Jaron. Or have you forgotten our last conversation?"

Tobias started to get red in the face. "Sorry, Pri-. Jaron. I just came to inform you that the peace talks are starting, and your presence is needed. None of the servants could find you."

He'd been avoiding them, actually. He'd been hoping Imogen would come by to wrestle him into the meeting, but Tobias had apparently beat her to it. Damn him.

"Tell them five more minutes."

Tobias now rolled _his _eyes. "You want the first meeting of the peace talks for the future of Carthya and its surrounding countries to be delayed by five minutes so you can brood, or whatever it is you're doing?"

"Yes. Five minutes won't start another war." Probably. If he knew anything about how some of his regents might react, they would at least be considering it. "Please, Tobias."

Tobias sighed. 'I'm sure you have your reasons…" He gave a questioning look.

"Yes, I do." Like he'd tell him. Jaron gave him a long look, until Tobias got the message and started walking out.

"I'll see what I can do. No promises." The meeting was as good as ten minutes late. When Tobias chose to stall, he could filibuster his way into eternity. The door closed behind him.

Grinning, Jaron turned back to the balcony, and started scaling his way down the vine embedded wall. His leg gave twinges of pain as he descended, but he had learned how to function without causing it too much pain. But that didn't make it any less annoying.

When he reached the bottom, he jumped down the last couple of feet before reaching the bottom. He brushed himself off, and started finding his way into the lower corners of the palace. He stopped next to a particular grate. The same one that had allowed him to enter his home for the first time in over a decade. The fight, the betrayal… it seemed so long ago.

He shook his head, and slipped quietly into the next room. The kitchen was bustling with activity, newly reorganized under the betrothed princess, Imogen. She had struggled learning noble life, and still enjoyed the simple things she once did as a way of life. Her newfound status gave her full access and authority, enabling prosperity that the once lovely kitchen came alive into incredible activity.

The servants were all preparing an incredible banquet of sorts for the ceremony tonight. But that certainly wouldn't be the best part.

He crept forward, staying on the edges. The servants were all very busy, or they might have noticed him. He snatched a lossiar from a tray, and crept to where Imogen was standing. She was busy ferociously kneading a large batch of dough, sweat running down her face.

He approached from behind, and tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped, and, turning around, was met with a mouthful of goodness. She grunted in surprise, then relaxed as she realized who her assaulter was.

"You should take a break." She clearly had been working for a long time, and the kitchen was quite heated.

By this time, she had finished chewing. She shook her head and swallowed. "You know I can't do that, Jaron." Her voice softened on that last part, making his heart clench. She leaned close and whispered "I want everything to be perfect."

He chuckled and looked her in the eyes. "It will be, I promise." She straightened. "Away with you, you're distracting me." Many of the servants had noticed the prince visiting his fiancé, and were now staring in amusement. "And not just me." The comment was clearly addressed to them.

The servants quickly realized their mistake, and got back to work. But Jaron just watched her, taking in every detail.

Her caramel hair was braided back to avoid getting in the food. Her hazel eyes poured from a gentle face, with a bit of flour staining her cheek. He reached across and brushed it away. "I love you."

She blushed, but responded in kind. "I love you too." She leaned in and kissed him briefly, before swatting his backside. "Now off with you. Don't you have a meeting or something?"

He groaned. "Maybe we could just elope?" He smiled hopefully. She gave him a reproving glare. "Fine, fine. But you'll regret your decision, I'm warning you. The life of royalty ain't easy." He backed away, hands in the air. "You ever change your mind…"

"Get out." She rolled her eyes, and got back to her work, clearly distracted. He smiled at the sight. He'd at least gotten under her skin.

He worked his way through the palace, upwards to the meeting hall. He never had liked the concept of vertical stacking to designate status, and this was one of the reasons. SO MANY STAIRS. He'd never walked so much in his life as switching between high and low class.

He finally arrived, well over ten minutes late. As expected, Tobias was stuffing the room with his big words, and the regents were all looking bored, some politely gazing on with glazed eyes. The regents of Avenia, accompanied by their king, the regents of Mendenwal and Gelyn, and Princess Amarinda, all accounted for.

He stopped. The Princess wasn't alone. Beside her was her uncle, king of Bymar.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Jaron quickly recovered from his surprise, and he took his seat next to Harlowe, with the Carthyan council. "What is he doing here?" Jaron murmured, his eyes never leaving the king's face. The man was old, but not ancient. His broad shoulders and scarred hands marked him a swordsman, but Jaron had never heard of him being a fighter. He recognized him from a single banquet, long ago, Darius' official crowning as Crown Prince. He looked a lot happier then.

"I'm afraid he insisted. He said that you and he had some…issues to work out." Harlowe gave a pointed look, but Jaron just shook his head, confused. He couldn't remember offending that particular king, except maybe when he jokingly removed his seal from his hand without him noticing. But no foul had been done.

Tobias caught Jaron's eye, and quickly started wrapping up. This particular lecture was on the topic of the importance of peace, how rarely it happened, the cost for this negotiation to take place…Touching, really, if it weren't so longwinded.

Tobias finished, and took his seat next to Jaron. As Harlowe rose to conduct the processions, Jaron was unsurprised to see King Galrys rise as well.

"I have something to say."

Harlowe nodded respectfully and seated himself again, giving Jaron a nervous look. Whatever Galrys was going to say, it wasn't going to be pleasant.

He continued, "For many years, we have been faithful allies of Carthya. Perhaps even the most faithful. Supplies have been delivered when Carthyans starved, tariffs have been reduced for Carthyan traders, our ports have been open for Carthya's use, and I'm sure no one here has forgotten the assistance of the Bymarian military." He gave a pointed look at the new Avenian King, who turned his gaze away.

"However, I have recently been informed of treachery committed behind my back." His eyes turned to Jaron, and the eyes of the room followed him.

"He has broken off the betrothal to the princess."

Gasps echoed throughout the room. A broken betrothal was a serious matter. Especially in Bymar.

Jaron rose. "It was an agreed upon matter. She is old enough to make her own decisions, isn't she?"

"Not in my country." The ancient king's face remained impassive. "In case you've forgotten, she was not the initiator for the betrothal. I did." He looked around the room. "It is my choice to make, and King Jaron," he said, turning to face him, "has taken it into his own hands."

A broken betrothal was against Carthyan tradition – and Bymarian law. Honor was a serious matter to the Bymarians.

One of the Avenian regents rose. "Is it true then? You unlawfully broke your betrothal?"

Immediately other regents rose and began arguing, some on his side, but most in agreement with Bymar. The room filled with noise.

"If Carthya does not reinstate the betrothal," Galrys said with finality, "Bymar will have no choice but to go to war." The room went into an uproar.

"Don't be a fool." said Tobias. After having just come out of a major war, Carthya and its allies, old and new, were no match for the almost unscathed Bymar. It would be a slaughter.

"I need time to think." Jaron's statement hushed the room as people awaited Galrys' response. He thought for only a fraction of a second, then replied.

"You have until tomorrow. Before the wedding." Jaron looked as though he would argue, but decided against it. "Tomorrow, then." He turned and immediately left the room, Tobias on his heels.

"Have you found anything?" Jaron asked, walking to the table where Tobias sat.

"Nothing useful." Tobias replied. "But there is quite a lot to read. Bymar takes its laws very seriously. Did you know that there's a law that you can't have chickens if you have more than-"

"Anything on betrothals?" Jaron demanded impatiently. Tobias was more than likely just trying to distract himself, but that wasn't helping right now. Tobias shook his head.

Jaron hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "I'll help." He hated books. But difficult circumstances made for difficult decisions. He sat down, briefly glancing through the titles of the many volumes Tobias had laid out. "Why do you have books on Carthyan lore?"

Tobias shrugged. "I need everything I can get. Besides, it can't hurt, can it?"

Jaron grabbed a book titled _Bymarian Economical Demand Through the Years: Volume IV _and began reading, skimming the pages of the book for any information on betrothals.

It wasn't long before his mind began to wander, eyes skipping meaninglessly across the page. He'd always known that King Galrys would someday question the broken engagement, but he'd fully expected that day to come years later, after he was happily married to Imogen and hopefully wise enough to deal with that issue. Bymar was an isolated country, and news tended to travel very slowly, so the expectation wasn't particularly unrealistic. So how had Galrys heard of it so quickly?

Spies. The thought hit him immediately. He shook his head. If there were spies in his court, Bymar would have known of the war before Amarinda went to beg for assistance. And the spy couldn't have been added afterwards, for no new staff had been added.

Jaron, lost in his thoughts, startled when Amarinda came up beside him. "Do you need some help?"

He looked up to answer, but realized she was addressing Tobias. Tobias smiled up at her. "I'd love your help."

She moved over to his side of the table, grabbing another tome from off of it. As she read, a dark curl slipped in front of her face. Tobias reached and slid it behind her ear. She gave him a beautiful smile, then turned back to reading.

Jaron sighed. If King Galrys was upset at Amarinda's lack of betrothal to himself, he could only imagine how furious he would be if he discovered the romance between the Princess and the regent.

He went back to his reading. Maybe Galrys already knew? What exactly did he know? And, more importantly, how?

He resolved to find out before morning.

Menigra awoke to the sensation of icy steel at his throat. His eyes flashed open in alarm. "Hello, Menigra."

Menigra squinted in the darkness to see his would-be assassin. "Who-" His eyes adjusted and he saw the perpetrator clearly. "Prince Jaron?"

"King Jaron, actually." The bed shifted as the King shifted slightly. "Now tell me, how does the Bymarian royal advisor have such pitiful guards?"

Menigra stiffened. "You killed them?"

Jaron shrugged. "I think they're drunk enough to be considered dead. But the royal coroner would likely disagree."

Menigra gave a sigh of relief, before recalling his precarious position. "What is it that you want, Your Highness?"

Jaron leaned forward. "How did Galrys know of my broken betrothal?"

Menigra scoffed. "It's common knowledge. It would be foolish to assume that he wouldn't find out."

Jaron's eyes narrowed. "You'd be surprised at how uncommon that piece of information actually is. My court certainly didn't know of it." Their surprised and dismayed reactions attested to that. "So tell me, who told him?"

Menigra shrugged. "Some elderly Carthyan man. Veldergrath, I think his name was. He told the king to investigate the betrothal of-" he fell silent.

The King of Carthya was already gone.

When Jaron arrived back at his room that night, he was greeted by a note on his pillow. He snatched it up and read the note in the moonlight.

_ Best wishes to the King,_

_ -V._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After a long night of pacing, Jaron went down to the library, hoping to see if Tobias had found anything. Upon peeking the door open, he noticed a single light. He crept in silently, noting that the figure lay slumbering. He went over to where Tobias was, and noticed with surprise that Amarinda was the one lying there. She ruffled and sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Morning." She stretched and looked around. Sleeping in the library seemed to have no effect on her appearance. "Where's Tobias?"

"I was wondering the same thing." Jaron looked around, but he didn't see Tobias or any of his books. "Do you think he found something?"

Amarinda gave a sad smile. "I would be the first to know if he did." Jaron conceded the point and sat down. Silence stretched between them, the awkwardness almost tangible. After all of this, here they were again.

Finally, Amarinda rose from her seat. "I'm going to speak with my uncle. Even if breaking our betrothal is unlawful, it shouldn't be. I'll make him see reason."

Jaron's eyebrows rose. Galrys hadn't seemed the most flexible of people. "Do you really think you'll convince him?"

"Not in the slightest. But I think it's worth a try." She strode out of the room.

Jaron sighed and picked out a book from the desk. He was certain it hadn't been there when he'd left last night, complaining of a headache. Tobias had probably cycled through half of the library, this being only one of his many victims. He began lazily flipping through the pages, when the door opening again caught his attention.

"Your Majesty." Mott bowed and quickly took his place beside Jaron, kneeling at his side.

"Mott. May I assume you're here to help me find a way out of this mess?"

Mott's ever present frown of worry deepened. "I'm more concerned with how you may handle the final decision, should it come."

Jaron turned to him sharply. "I would do anything for Carthya."

"You would also do anything for Imogen. Please, sire, don't allow your personal desires, however strong, destroy your country." Mott's eyes sorrowed. "Though I am sorry."

"You and I both know I wouldn't be the same king if Imogen left. I need her, Mott." Jaron took a breath. "Carthya needs her."

Mott shook his head. "A strong marriage means nothing to a country caught in a hopeless war."

Jaron bristled. "We just came through a hopeless war, we could do it again. Besides, there's still time. Tobias might find something."

Mott scowled. "Are you even listening to yourself? A needless war with Bymar?" Jaron's gaze fell. "Even if you went to war…" He trailed off.

"I've said it before, but you cannot win this one." Mott's gaze wavered. "But if you really think you can, I'll follow you." Mott looked him in the eyes, and asked seriously, "Could you win?"

Jaron hesitated. At their peak, Carthya was three quarters of the size of Bymar, with barely more than half the population. In their weakened state, it would be a slaughter. Jaron reluctantly shook his head. "You're right. It's a stupid thought."

Mott grabbed his arm. "I know this must be hard for you, and for her, but please," He pulled closer, "Promise me, no matter what, you'll do what's best for Carthya."

Jaron closed his eyes and sighed.

"I promise."

The rest of the morning progressed rapidly, and Jaron rushed to get everything done. He spoke briefly with Roden, who was soon on his way.

"Has anyone seen Tobias?" Jaron slipped through the kitchen, grabbing a roll and pocketing it. Many of the servants shook their heads, and he kept moving. "He's going to be late," Jaron grumbled under his breath.

He looked around for Imogen, but didn't see her. He cursed. He had wanted to at least talk to her before this meeting, perhaps for the last time.

He scurried up the hallway, one of the last to enter the Regents Hall. He quickly took his seat, noting the continued absence of Tobias. He felt a pang of anxiety. _There's still time…_

The room was uneasy, low conversations had between neighbors. Amarinda was there, beside her uncle. She looked defeated, eyes swollen with what appeared to be anger. She was seething. Clearly, her uncle had won that encounter.

Jaron studied King Galrys next. He appeared resolved, no trace of emotion staining his impassive features. He sat tall, head and shoulders over Amarinda, and he boasted impressive bulkiness and scars indicative of a master swordsman. The silver Bymarian crown rested on his graying curls.

Finally, Harlowe rose to begin the meeting. He acknowledged Tobias' absence, and then proceeded to give minutes of the last meeting when Galrys rose, interrupting him.

"Before we proceed any further, I would like to state my good intent. My niece has made clear her feelings on this subject, and I believe the king has as well." He looked to Jaron and cleared his throat.

"I do not wish to cause harm here, to anyone. Nor am I desirous to go to war. My only desire is for previous arrangements to be kept. I will not allow a new ruler, however young or capable, to snivel out of an alliance made by his father."

"Furthermore, I will not allow me or my country to be dishonored in such a manner as breaking a betrothal. It is Bymarian tradition that betrothals are resolved, and anything less is an insult to my country, and that," he said, gaze returning to Jaron, "is unacceptable."

Before he could say more, The door bursted open to reveal a hurried Tobias, sheets of paper drifting out of an impressive pile of books he carried. He walked into the center of the room, placing the books with a loud thud on the table in the center.

His eyes were bloodshot, his hair ruffled in an excessively unkempt manner. Half of his shirt was hanging out, and the tiredness in his eyes could be mistaken for deep depression.

As the room looked on, he turned to face Jaron. He gave a small nod, answering the unasked question.

Jaron gave a sigh of relief. Tobias had found something.

**Thank you all so much for the reviews! If you have any recommendations for the plot, or details you think are worth adding, I would greatly appreciate you sending me a message and/or a review!**

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**Thanks again!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Tobias shuffled a stack of papers, aligning them before placing them on the table. He gazed around the room tiredly, his eyes settling on where Amarinda was seated before quickly moving on. He took a deep breath.

"In my research, I investigated everything on Bymarian law and traditions that I could find. Betrothals are more common than you might think in Bymarian history, accounting for almost three percent of all marriages held in Bymar, seemingly small unless you recognize the comparative statistics of neighboring countries, such as Gelyn."

Galrys opened his mouth to speak, but Amarinda silenced him with an elbow.

"In fact, their divorce rate is significantly lower than other countries, occurring in only one in twenty marriages, compared to one in fifteen in Carthya, and one in eight in Avenia. I didn't account Gelyn, as their three tiers of marriage are too complicated to really sort through."

Tobias shifted his feet, and slipped the next paper to the floor. He shook his head returning to the conversation at hand. "Anyway, according to Bymarian law, betrothals may not end without being cut off by both of the agreed parties, usually a parent or guardian, unless absent. This may only occur when severe disease, death, or any sort of another serious ailment impairs the productivity of heirs within the marriage. Due to this fact, it was, indeed, contrary to Bymarian law that King Jaron and Princess Amarinda annulled their betrothal. In fact, it was very illegal."

He paused, looking around the room. Jaron frowned and tilted his head in question when Tobias looked at him. Tobias merely gave a tired smile. The court murmured, seemingly confused by Tobias' conclusion. He took another deep breath before continuing.

"The punishment for a broken betrothal is death, enforceable by any means necessary, including war."

The murmur burst into an outrage, eyes turning to Jaron. "Tobias," he hissed, "What are you doing?"

Galrys' eyes never left Tobias. "What is your point, regent?"

Tobias shrugged. "The betrothal was never broken."

The court stopped. Amarinda blinked in confusion. Galrys cleared his throat and stood. "What do you mean, 'never broken?'" His eyes narrowed.

"According to Bymarian law, betrothals cannot be broken _without both agreed parties consent_. You never agreed, I assume, so the betrothal wasn't broken. So long as Jaron hasn't contracted the plague, the betrothal is still very much intact."

Galrys reclaimed his seat, his focused gaze bright with puzzlement. Jaron shook his head. "Tobias, get to the point."

"I'm getting there. I've spoken of Bymarian law, where the agreement has not, indeed, been breached. So long as there was no particular date set, King Jaron has not broken any laws."

"But we also have Carthyan law to consider. As the King has recently proposed and is currently engaged to a Carthyan noble lady, his engagement appeals to Carthyan laws."

Tobias shuffled through his papers, bringing one to the front of the stack and began reading. "'Engagements may resolve in three ways. First, that the engaged parties are married. Second, that either party becomes deceased,'" he shared an ironic look with Jaron. "'Or third, that immorality deems the man ineligible to be married.'" He looked around the room once again, this time settling his gaze on Galrys. "Both laws are currently in force."

He paused again, waiting for a reaction. The hall was silent, the members becoming increasingly puzzled by the second. Tobias looked somewhat smug, but the tiredness overcame him, and his gaze dropped back to his papers.

"Of course, one solution would be to kill off either of the engaged, but that seems to be an… unsatisfactory arrangement. Another solution might include forced immorality."

Jaron shifted uneasily, uncomfortable with where the conversation was going.

"Unfortunately, this too is an inviable solution."

"Why?" This time it was Galrys who spoke. His look remained firm. "The law must be resolved somehow."

Tobias turned to face him. "Immorality would cut off the engagement, yes, but it would _also _cut off the betrothal. As part of the contract that was initiated, immorality, even between the betrothed parties, would result in immediate termination. This is an illegal breakoff, and is the primary cause for the death penalty I mentioned earlier." He tilted his head pleasantly. "May I finish?"

Galrys reluctantly nodded, looking somewhat embarrassed.

Tobias gave a nod of thanks before continuing. "We seem to be at an impasse. Either Carthyan law or Bymarian law will be broken. Fortunately, history can offer us an insight."

He turned to the table, and selected a volume from among the large stack. He presented it to the row of seats before him, turning in a full circle to show all the regents seated, stopping at Kerwyn.

"Do you recognize this book?" Kerwyn shook his head, curious. "This book contains the history of one of the Pre-Carthyan factions, one of six. Of course, Carthya is a relatively young country, so the union of these factions is well documented, leading to a foundation for the current Carthyan law. Since our current law books have no statement on this particular situation, I believe this book may hold a-" he hesitated briefly. "-more acceptable solution."

He flipped the book open to a bookmark near the center. "One of the past kings was in a similar situation. Betrothed to a Bymarian princess from birth," he looked up, raising an eyebrow, "until she died tragically, killed en route by a rouge faction. Or so everyone thought. In the meantime, King Corbus still needed some form of alliance. He quickly found a suitable match with a neighboring faction, now also a part of Carthya. A week before the wedding, the missing Bymarian bride showed up at his stronghold, carrying reasonable evidence that she was, indeed, who she claimed to be."

Amarinda's eyes narrowed. Tobias looked around the room, refusing to meet her gaze. "Corbus was in a pickle. Denying Bymarian tradition would put a death mark on his head, and Bymar was a far more prosperous and dangerous country even then. It would be suicide. But then, denying his recently engaged bride would mean destroying all hope for a faction alliance, meaning that Carthya would never have formed."

Galrys rose again, unable to restrain himself any longer. "So he denied the Bymarian princess, then?"

Tobias dropped his eyes to the floor. "Not exactly."

Harlowe spoke up. "What precisely are you suggesting, Tobias?"

Tobias looked up to meet Jaron's eyes. "He married them both."

Immediately, council members around the room shot to their feet, yelling incoherently while Tobias sat patiently in the middle. He still wouldn't meet Amarinda's gaze.

Jaron remained in his seat, stunned. When Tobias had said that he had found something, this was most certainly not what he had expected. Maybe it was just another step to his final conclusion…

He eyed Tobias, but Tobias wouldn't look at him either. No, this was EXACTLY what Tobias had meant.

The members quieted to allow Kerwyn to speak. The lines on his face stretched thin, a clear sign of a headache coming on. Jaron knew that face well.

"Polygamy of any sort is _not _permitted by Carthyan law. This solution is precisely as unreasonable, if not more so."

Tobias shook his head. "Technically, it's illegal to become _engaged_ while married or engaged, not betrothed. Polygamy is functionally illegal, not universally."

Galrys was the next to speak, a hard edge coating his words. "I will not have my niece treated as some sort of… offhand concubine. This is unacceptable."

Tobias' face darkened. "Believe me sir, when I say that I would very much agree. But she wouldn't be a 'concubine,' as you called it. Two wives, married simultaneously, equal in all respects, including rank."

This stopped Galrys for a moment. He nodded. "I came here for a resolution of the law. If this fits the terms of the betrothal, I have no objection."

"Uncle!" Amarinda spoke up sharply, he dark curls whipping as she faced him harshly. "Surely you aren't-"

"I am king. And more importantly, I am one of the propagators of this betrothal." He straightened. "My word is law."

Amarinda fumed, her face turning bright red with anger. Tobias steadfastly looked away.

Jaron had heard enough. He rose. "In place of my father, I too am one of the propagators. And I insist that this is unacceptable."

Galrys smirked, his eyes glistening. "What is your counter-proposal then? The death of your beloved servant? War? Or is there something you want to tell me," he paused, gesturing to the rest of the room, "Or tell us?"

Jaron closed his mouth. Without warning, he burst toward the door, leaving exclamations of surprise behind him.

He burst through the door, zipping down the corridors, breezing past servants and noblemen alike. Down the hall, through the kitchen, up the stairs, through another door, to his balcony. He briefly thought of jumping, letting luck decide his fate, before opting with merely sitting down.

An hour later, Imogen crept up to where Jaron sat, his legs pulled up against his chest. His face was in a deep scowl, and he rocked back and forth against the wall behind him. He gave no indication of her approach.

She sat beside him, and tenderly put one of her arms around him. "Jaron…"

He shifted away slightly. She pulled her hand back, hurt. She sighed. "Jaron, even if we cannot be married, I want you to know that I still love you." She shifted to be in a similar position to him, knees against her chest.

She paused before speaking again. "I'd give an arm and a leg to marry you, if it meant not having to go to war." He winced.

She went on, not having noticed his reaction. "Saints, I'd give up anything except for peace." She shuddered, recalling the events of the last war. "Except for peace."

He cringed further with every statement. She sighed. They sat there in silence for a moment, horribly uncomfortable. Her very presence seemed to hurt him, and she was ignorant of the alternative solution. Finally she spoke.

"I suppose this is goodbye, then." she gave a small smile. "Maybe I'll see if Harlowe has any work for a lady. I'm sure-"

"What if there was a way?" Jaron blurted out. He regretted the question immediately, seeing the hope rise in her eyes.

"Without war?" She blinked. "Jaron, if there were such a way, why haven't you told me about that?" Her eyes sparkled with restrained glee. He looked away.

"It comes at a… cost." He shifted uncomfortably.

She eyed him warily, restrained glee vanishing. "What sort of cost?"

He buried his head between his knees. "I marry Amarinda as well."

He didn't see her reaction. She became very silent. The silence stretched on, Jaron feeling more and more grieved by the second. Finally, he looked up to her.

Her gaze was focused on him, her eyes sad, but resolute. "Jaron Artolius Eckbert III, I told you that I would give anything." Their eyes met. "Even if it meant sharing you."

Jaron pushed open the door, revealing the still-arguing court. He turned to face Galrys. He stated bitterly "We accept your proposal."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The entire palace came into a rush immediately following Jaron's announcement. The wedding had already been postponed a day to await Tobias' studies, so every servant was on active duty. Preparing for a royal wedding had been a difficult enough process, but a royal, _double _wedding? Absolutely hectic.

Jaron, of course, was onset by his tailors, suiting him up for his now-eminent marriage. He had been avoiding them for weeks, planning on just having it done the last day. They had worked privately, guessing and attempting, but they needed him for the final measurements. He now wished he had just done it earlier.

The kitchen staff was bustling about, having to cook the entire wedding feast anew, all of yesterday's effort wasted. No way under heaven would the head cook allow _reheated food_ to be served at a _royal wedding_. He opted for doing the impossible.

Imogen and Amarinda had been bundled in their rooms, an entire team of servants each. And the tailor's thought THEY had a difficult job...

Amarinda (luckily) had had a premade wedding dress since her betrothal to Prince Darius. Of course, they couldn't have possible known her size and shape, so it needed major adjustments. Still, better than making one from scratch.

Tobias was holed up in his room. It is hard to say whether he was sleeping off the immense studying from the night before, or whether he was crying. The rumors went both ways.

Mott was attempting to speak to Jaron while he was tailored. Jaron nor the tailors were having any of it, so Mott went off in search of Tobias. Upon finding him in his room, Mott could guess what was happening. So he went off to search for Roden, whom he found had mysteriously disappeared. At this point, Mott gave up and opted to wait for Jaron.

The hours sped by, allowing for little conversation of any sort. The royal hall was decorated, messengers were sent out with the announcement of the new terms of the marriage, and the feast was prepared with an incredible speed, finishing before the decorators were ready. It was quite a hassle.

Very soon, (but later than he would've liked), Jaron was released from confinement. Unfortunately, they would not let him out of the suit. Disgruntled, he questioned why.

The wedding was ready to start.

Jaron stood in front of the throne, pulling at his collar. The crowd behind him waited, patient, but uneasy. Jaron understood the feeling. Never in known Carthyan history had an event such as this occurred. The feelings for it were mixed.

Since the war, he had had the unhindered respect and loyalty of the people. Amarinda was also quite popular with them, but it was well known that he had someone else in mind since the very beginning. With Imogen's rescue from Avenia, those rumors had boiled into knowledge, and the wedding was expected. Within the course of 24 hours, everything changed, and now he was going to do the unthinkable – marry two women.

Of course, in Gelyn it was more than common, but in Carthya, it was straight up unheard of. The people were torn between loyalty to the king, and confusion at the unfamiliar practice. Some even considered it immoral, conjured by the devils.

Luckily, most of the blame landed on King Galrys, the one who pushed the betrothal. On the other hand, some of that blame spread onto Amarinda, who interrupted their happily ever after. Jaron was unsure what the exact reaction of the people would be, especially when they learned the details of the arrangement.

After what seemed an eternity, the doors opened. Imogen entered, dressed all in white. Her hair was bundled into a fancy, thick braid down the center of her back. The servants had applied only minimal makeup, but she was still the most beautiful Jaron had ever seen her. It was too bad this wasn't only their wedding. He felt a pang through his stomach.

She was escorted by Harlowe, as her father wasn't present to do so. Behind her came Amarinda, escorted by her uncle King Galrys. She easily bested Imogen in terms of beauty, and most of the eyes in the room immediately turned to her. All, that is, except Jaron.

She wore her hair in loose, brown curls that draped loosely over her back and shoulders. Unlike Imogen, her servants had applied quite the amount of makeup to match her innate beauty. The crown of Bymarian royalty sat shimmering on her head, light and silver. Her gown draped over her figure, complementing it flawlessly. Neither she nor Imogen wore any earrings, per the Bymarian custom for married women.

Imogen arrived first, stepping across where Jaron stood, to his right side. They had all been informed of the peculiar routine while being tailored. She extended her right hand, and Jaron took it with his. Her left hand remained limp at her side.

Imogen met his gaze, her eyes sad. She gave him a faint smile and squeezed his hand.

Amarinda arrived next, eyes cast down as she stood next to Imogen. She lifted her left hand, and placed it in Jaron's. Her eyes were red around the edges, a fact well concealed with makeup.

Jaron then looked up to where King Galrys was waiting. Galrys gave a single nod, before striding to his front row seat in the audience.

Kerwyn cleared his throat. He was currently taking Tobias' place as the officiator for personal reasons. He began.

"Today, we have come here to celebrate the union of Jaron Artolius Eckbert III, Ascendant King of Carthya, with the Lady Imogen, and with Princess Amarinda, appointed heir to the Bymarian throne. We celebrate this communion with the utmost joy, and we hope that…"

Jaron became lost in his thoughts. Throughout the entire tailoring, he had considered his options. War was unacceptable, obviously, but he had thought of other possibilities. Faking his own death, for instance, seemed particularly likable. But not only would Galrys suspect the truth, but the fragile state of Carthya's politics (especially with Veldergrath on the loose) seemed doubtful.

Any trick of any sort would surely backfire in the end. If Galrys ever discovered it, he would not hesitate to punish and amend the mistake.

Other negotiations also seemed negligible. Galrys seemed unlikely to compromise, no matter what the financial benefits, not to mention Carthya was a far poorer country than Bymar, too poor to have anything worthwhile to offer.

Jaron stewed as Kerwyn went on. Just as he had thought the devils had had their fun with him, they sent another, more daunting trial his way. He shook his head and repeated his mantra under his breath_. _"May the devil's be damned."

Imoge gave him a stern look and he quieted. Kerwyn had almost arrived at their part. "Do you, Jaron Artolius Eckbert III, Ascendant King of Carthya, take this Lady Imogen, to be your eternal companion, forever trusted, forever true?"

Jaron responded without hesitation. "I do."

"Do you swear that you will strive with your utmost efforts to supply to her her heart's demands, that you will protect her at the cost of your life, that you will heed her counsel, and that you will remain true to her throughout all of your endeavors?"

"I do."

Kerwyn nodded, and then turned to Imogen. "Do you, Lady Imogen, take this Jaron Artolius Eckbert III, Ascendant King of Carthya," Jaron would have laughed at the repetition if he had been in a better mood, "to be your eternal companion, forever trusted, forever true?"

Imogen gave a nod, and smiled at Jaron, this time, genuinely. "I do."

"Do you swear that you will diligently and truthfully seek the good of his children, that you will comply with the wishes of his soul, that you will aid him in his times of grief and struggle, and that you will remain to him and him alone, faithful and obedient?"

She raised an eyebrow at the last comment, but didn't hesitate. "I do."

Kerwyn nodded tirely, and faced Amarinda. She didn't look up until Kerwyn began his address. "Princess Amarinda, appointed heir to the Bymarian throne, do you take this Jaron Artolius Eckbert III, Ascendant King of Carthya," Kerwyn paused, nearly slipping on the last word, "to be your eternal companion, forever trusted, forever true?"

Her only response was a nod. Kerwyn hesitated, then continued, "Do you swear that you will diligently and truthfully seek the good of his children, that you will comply with the wishes of his soul, that you will aid him in his times of grief and struggle, and that you will remain to him and him alone, faithful and obedient?"

"Yes." She had dropped her gaze again as he spoke, and she kept her eyes on the floor.

"Then I pronounce you, man and wives, King and Queens of Carthya."

The air ruptured with the cry of the crowd. King Jaron was now married.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Per Carthyan tradition, the newlyweds were escorted to their separate rooms to prepare for the evening. No one really knew what to do with the two brides. Beforehand, there had been quite the discussion over it. Traditionally, the bride would be escorted to the bride room to prepare herself. Considering the equivalent status of the two, it was deemed improper to merely open another room as an additional bride room. Eventually, they determined that it would be fine to allow them to share a room.

The servants ushered the girls into the bride room, and Amarinda dismissed them. They bowed, and left the room, the door shutting behind them. Amarinda turned to face Imogen. Her face fell, and she tangled Imogen in a hug.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" Amarinda cried. Imogen stood there in shock, barely registering the apology. After a few moments, she returned the embrace.

"I am the one who should be apologizing, Princess." She sighed, shoulders falling. "I get my happily ever after, while you do not."

Amarinda pulled away in shock. "Your happily ever after involves sharing your husband?" She asked, her tearful face skeptical.

Imogen pondered for only a moment. "To be honest, it could be much worse. We could be at war." She paused, a smile coming to her face. "I could have to share him with someone like Serena." That got a smile out of Amarinda. "Instead," she continued, "I am with my best friend." She pulled Amarinda into another hug.

Amarinda sniffled. "I promise, I won't get in your way. I'll go somewhere else, maybe back home. You can have Jaron all to yourself." She cried, obviously thinking of Tobias.

Imogen stroked her back, thoughtful. "I don't want that." Amarinda stopped. "I want you to be happy."

Amarinda pulled back to look her in the eye. "You don't want me to leave?" She seemed genuinely confused. Imogen shrugged.

"I don't think anyone deserves to be married to someone that they do not love." She hesitated briefly. "I want you to give Jaron a chance." Amarinda stared at her.

Imogen sighed. "Not to mention, your uncle would be furious if he thought that you were second rate." Imogen returned Amarinda's gaze. "Promise me you'll give him a shot. Promise me."

Amarinda shook her head noncommittally. "I'm not sure I can. After Darius, and now Tobias…" she trailed off, looking about ready to burst into tears again. "I'm not sure I can ever love again."

Imogen's eyes fell. "Try. Please. I don't want you to suffer forever." Imogen held her firmly. "Promise me."

Amarinda hesitated, falling silent before responding. "I promise," she whispered.

Imogen embraced her again. "I'm sorry." Against her will, she felt tears begin to slip down her cheeks. "We'll get through this together."

They wept together.

Jaron dismissed his servants. He could dress himself. He had only needed their help getting out of his expensive wedding suit. He shrugged on his shirt and pulled on his trousers. He had almost finished when he noticed that one of the servants hadn't left. He paused, inspecting them closely.

"Tobias?" he asked, gazing curiously. Tobias stepped forward removing the servant cap. His eyes were swollen, but dry of tears. "Jaron."

They stood, facing each other for a silent moment. Jaron met his gaze and saw utter melancholy. He had chosen to give up Amarinda to prevent a war, just to keep Jaron from giving up Imogen. It was selfless, he thought, a real friend.

They stood in silence, until Tobias finally spoke. "I was thinking, maybe I could visit Gelyn or something? I'm curious about their marriage functions." He spoke nonchalantly, but Jaron could guess the real reason for his request.

Jaron gave him a nod, then hesitated. "Actually, I've heard good things about Mendenwal this year. Maybe you would consider going there instead?"

Tobias tilted his head, puzzled. "What?"

*They spoke for a few more minutes. When they had finished, Jaron extended his hand gravely. Tobias shook it, equally grave. In that small action, all the words they hadn't said were communicated. Gratitude, and apology. Jaron gave a final nod.

Then, Tobias left.

Jaron sat on the bed, deep in thought, when the doors opened. He rose to greet Imogen as she entered.

She kept her eyes downcast as she approached him. She was dressed in a thin white gown, richly embroidered, that didn't quite reach her knees. Her figure was almost visible beneath it, the thin cloth framing her nicely. Her hair was worn in a loose braid, almost identical to how it was the first time he ever saw her.

She drew close, and he grasped her hand in his own. This was the woman he loved. He gasped, an almost painful pressure appearing in his chest. He desired nothing more than to go to bed with his beloved, to finally unionize them as husband and wife. But then he remembered.

Amarinda had entered behind her, going almost unnoticed by Jaron in his stupor. She waited demurely by the door, clearly embarrassed. She was dressed in a plain white gown, lacking the embroidery and skillmanship that Imogen's dress had emphasized. Nonetheless, the thin gown complemented her curvy figure far better than Imogen's. Her dark brown hair remained in curls, draping her shoulders and back, and framing her face.

But Jaron had only eyes for Imogen. She stopped him as he attempted to pull her in for a kiss.

"If Galrys suspects anything, he will not hesitate to retaliate." She paused, looking down. "Tonight, I think it would be best just to sleep."

Amarinda spoke up. "I can find another room," she offered. Jaron sighed.

"No, Imogen's right," he said, regretting every word, "The servants would gossip." His heart fell, broken. "You should stay in here."

Amarinda glanced around the richly furnished room. There was a single bed, king sized. Clearly not intended for more than two. She sighed, noting the suspicious lack of other reclinable furniture. "Alright…" She appeared distinctly uncomfortable.

Jaron noticed her appearance for the first time. He quickly glanced away, not wishing to embarrass either of them. "Right."

Amarinda approached the bed, lying down on the very edge. At Imogen's prompting, Jaron reluctantly climbed into the bed, keeping space between them.

Imogen climbed on behind him, the space between Jaron and Amarinda forcing Jaron to lie immediately next to Imogen.

She let out a slight gasp as their bodies touched, only a few layers between them. She met his gaze, and he could see her desire, equally restrained. She turned around, not trusting herself if she faced him.

Jaron sighed. This would be a long night.


	7. Chapter 7

Chap 7

Jaron awoke in the morning pressed against Imogen. He lazily opened his eyes, faintly recalling the events of the previous night. He opened his eyes to gaze at Imogen.

She slept peacefully, lying on her back. Her braid had barely held over the course of the last night, and she was drooling slightly. Jaron had never seen a more beautiful sight.

He felt a burst of desire, familiar to last night. It was then he realized his physical predicament. He cursed the devils quietly, this time for the sweet torture that sleeping next to Imogen would bring. He sighed.

He then noticed Amarinda's absence. She was already gone. His attention immediately turned back to Imogen, temptation filling him. Amarinda was clearly giving them an opportunity.

He shook his head and pushed it down. Imogen had made her wishes clear last night. He let out another frustrated sigh and climbed out of the other side of the bed.

The wardrobes were stocked, the servant's likely filling it during the night. He thought of their sleeping arrangements last night and flushed. There would likely be gossip this morning – of all sorts.

He quickly got dressed, selecting a rather plain outfit from the closet. He wasn't feeling particularly kingly, especially with recent events.

He returned to where Imogen lay, still soundly asleep despite the morning light drifting through the window. She must have been up last night as long as he was. He couldn't help but smile at the thought. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I love you," he murmured, pulling himself away.

She smiled gently in her sleep and shifted slightly. He turned away, trying not to notice that one of her sleeves had fallen to her arm during the night. Breakfast would clear his head.

Arriving at the breakfast hall, he noted with pleasure that the staff was running far behind. After the wedding, there had been an immense celebration, no doubt with a lot of drinking. The staff was more than likely still recovering, nursing some nasty hangovers.

The reason for his delight is that meant that all the stuffy nobles would have to serve themselves - including his new uncle-in-law, King Galrys.

He entered the dining hall, then stopped when he saw the company. He had interrupted Galrys and Princess (Queen) Amarinda in the middle of a discussion. They both halted conversation immediately, causing a somewhat awkward silence. Finally, Galrys spoke.

"Ah, young King." Galrys' tone was respectful, and Jaron couldn't detect any hint of sarcasm in his voice. "You arrive at last." Amarinda seemed surprised to see him, no doubt expecting him to take advantage of his situation with Imogen.

"I trust you found your arrangements satisfactory?" Jaron had secretly been hoping he'd have a hangover too. "Nothing too peculiar, I hope?" he asked with a sly look.

Galrys scowled, and Amarinda gave Jaron a panicked look. Jaron ignored her* and eyed the King cooly.

"What did you do?" Galrys inquired coldly. Jaron was widely renowned, most especially when he was younger, for his unique sense of hospitality. The last Bymarian ambassador had awakened to find another woman's undergarment in his wife's angry fist. Their marriage only survived because of Darius' intervention and sleuthing.

Jaron smiled innocently. "What do you mean?" Galrys' scowl deepened. "I made sure you were provided with only the _best_ of pillows. I'm certain that if you have no complaints…"

Galrys grunted, eyeing Jaron suspiciously. Jaron opted at that moment to begin making himself breakfast, ignoring the hostility entirely. "Some cheese, sir?"

The other King's only reply was the same scowl. The man really needed some new expressions to add to his repertoire.

Galrys waved his hand dismissively, his attention returning to his plate of food. "It is of no matter. My servants will discover it." Jaron bit back a laugh. He doubted it.

"I have a matter to discuss with you, one I would like to be kept semi-private." Galrys gestured to the nigh absent room. "This timing seems sufficient."

Jaron's stomach twisted with concern. Still, he responded. "And I with you. You may go first, as I am quite the gentleman." He waved his hand in mock politeness. Galrys remained impassive.

Then he sighed. "Do you know why I forced this marriage?" he asked, his eyes showing the slightest bit of humanity. "Why I would put my niece through pain, and threaten this continent with war? Why I would risk offence or assassination?" Galrys eyes softened. "Do you know why?"

Jaron shrugged dismissively. "Sure. You wanted the law to be kept. It was about honor."

To his surprise, Galrys shook his head. "That is not all." He shifted in his chair, straightening. "My doctors informed me after my wife died, that I was infertile."

Jaron blinked in shock. "What does that have to do with-"

"Lady Amarinda is the last of my bloodline." He gestured to where she sat silently. "That's why she is my appointed heir. Unfortunately, she cannot inherit without a child." She looked at him, unsurprised. Clearly, this was what they were speaking about.

Jaron thought for a moment. "So you needed her married. Why me?" he asked, annoyed. "Why not just have her off and marry Tobias?"

Amarinda flinched. "Because he isn't _royal_," she said with disgust. "The father has to be royal."

Jaron shook his head. "Who makes these stupid rules, anyway?"

Galrys glared at him. "Our ancestors. Bymar is the longest-lived nation of us all, thanks to those 'stupid rules', as you so diplomatically put it.

"I'd give more credit to the massive military, but alright," murmured Jaron under his breath. If Galrys heard him, he gave no sign.

"My point is," stated Galrys, "I need an heir. Immediately." Jaron stiffened. "If you cannot provide one within the next year, I will take it as a refusal of marriage." Galrys kept his gaze firm. "Celibacy within marriage is quite an offense to us Bymarians."

Jaron thought on this. Galrys had a point. He was growing a bit too old to be utterly heirless, and he was anxious. But he and Amarinda certainly had no interest in each other, most especially _in that way_.

But Jaron still needed to ask a favor. "Fine," he lied, "You'll get your heir." Amarinda gave him a sharp look. They'd have to talk later. "On one condition."

Galrys' eyebrows shot up in surprise. "A counteroffer."

"A request." Jaron thought for a moment before speaking. "You help me apprehend Veldergrath."

Galrys' expression darkened. "How did you find out about him?" He thought for a moment. "On second thought, perhaps I do not wish to know."

Jaron sat up. "He is a noble of Carthya, accused and imprisoned for the murder of King Eckbert and his wife, as well as the crown prince." He watched as Galrys seemed surprised. "He tried to usurp me, and I demand he be found."

Galrys leaned back in his chair, thinking. "If it is as you say, I will put on a search. It is only honorable." He gave Jaron a warning look to inform him his lie did not go by undetected.

Jaron swallowed nervously. "Thank you." He gave a small bow. "In that case, it's time I get moving. A lot to get ready, you know." He dumped what remained of his food into the trashbin at the side and moved to exit. Galrys halted him.

"I've heard about your little 'trip'. Per our current agreement I would request _most heavily_," his look clearly stated that this was not a request, "that you bring your new brides with you." Jaron rolled his eyes.

"It might not be entirely safe…" he stated, concerned. "I'm not known for my peaceful lifestyle."

"Then take protection." Galrys stated this as though it were obvious.

Jaron shifted uncomfortably. "I need stealth for this particular 'trip.'" It was true. A small army would be more a burden than a boon.

"I believe diplomacy would be best in this situation," interrupted Mott. He had just entered the door, where Jaron spotted several servants listening in. Mott grabbed his arm. "Especially in this case," he whispered.

Jaron thought for a moment. "Alright, I'll bring a guard."

Galrys snorted, unimpressed. "For the crown princess of Bymar? Your troops must truly be thinning." Jaron ignored the remark.

"You haven't met this guard." Mott's eyes flashed with recognition. "Not to mention, stealth will be security in this particular situation. We'll be safer without a clanking army following us around."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty," interjected Mott, "I know the guard of whom he speaks. Roden, captain of the guard." Mott's eyes glanced to Jaron. "I promise you, he is most proficient, perfectly capable of the protection that is needed.

Galrys looked skeptical. "Is that so?" He leaned in, looking for any type of deceit in Jaron's eyes. He saw nothing.

He leaned back. "Very well." He extended his hand to Jaron, who took it. "We have a deal."

*Like he always does :(

**Thank you all so much for the reviews! I was admittedly rushed, so I apologize for the lesser quality of this scene. The interesting stuff will be coming up.**

**For those of you wondering about Jaron's trip, it will be explained in the carriage. **

**Special thanks to Clara and call-me-crouton! Thank you guys!**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The carriage pulled away from castle, wheels creaking in agony. Jaron had selected a far less royal carriage to use, opting for stealth over wealth. It did come with some major drawbacks.

For one, the carriage he had purchased was meant for two people, no more. Imogen and Amarinda had opted to share one side, and it was a little cramped, especially in leg room. They were both dressed in moderate clothing, per his request. He knew that they were curious about what was going on, Amarinda especially.

When he determined that they were far enough from the palace, he decided to tell them.

He had sent Roden out to Avenia to inform give the pirates a message. To find Veldergrath and deliver him to the Carthyan government. Tobias had been sent to Mendenwal with Kerwyn to negotiate with the king for the search for him. Mott had been in charge of organizing a search in Carthya. With Galrys' agreement to look in Bymar, there was only one place Veldergrath could run. Gelyn.

Imogen was skeptical. "Why is it so important to find Veldergrath?" She glanced at Amarinda. "Revenge?"

Jaron shook his head. "As long as he's out there, he won't rest." He pulled Veldergrath's note from his pocket and showed it to them.

This alarmed Amarinda. "He got into your room? How?"

"_He_ didn't have to." Jaron could imagine the bulky noble attempting to scale the wall. "All that he needed to do was demonstrate his resources."

"He wants to lure you out," said Imogen slowly.

Jaron nodded. "And that's what he's going to do."

Amarinda stared at him in shock. "You're just going into another trap? You know what happened the _last _time you did that?"

Jaron winced. "If it wasn't for your nosy uncle, I would've gone alone." Imogen narrowed her eyes. "And you would both be happily safe in the palace," he said, giving Imogen a look.

"Maybe we would rather be with you, did you ever think of that?" Imogen snapped. Before Jaron could retort, Amarinda interrupted.

"What exactly did you do to him, anyway?" She asked worriedly. Jaron gave a wicked grin.

"Nothing."

Amarinda blinked. "Nothing?"

Jaron's smile remained. "Yep. He'll be searching for weeks." He could imagine Galrys' fury as the weeks went on, growing more and more desperate. "I told him his servants wouldn't find anything."

Amarinda laughed, the beautiful sound ringing through the carriage. Imogen smiled. They were getting along fine.

The carriage quieted again. Then Imogen spoke. "What's the plan?"

Jaron shrugged. "I've heard a lot of rumors about low-life Gelyn. It depends on which ones are true." Amarinda gave him a look.

They rode in silence. Jaron was surprised at how little resistance they had put up. Maybe they were learning to trust him.

Or they knew that Roden would be there. He scowled. He hoped it was the former.

**Sorry for the short chapter. Send in your ideas, if you have them. I will be introducing an OC, and Roden will join them with a surprise guest. The action is coming! Please be patient, and get those reviews coming!**

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